


Letter V: Visions

by authorangelita (angel)



Series: Fic Alphabet Challenge: Teen Wolf [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, M/M, Prophetic Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6492421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/authorangelita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles drinks a tea that allows him to have prophetic visions.  Not all of them are good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letter V: Visions

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Fic Alphabet Challenge at [my Tumblr](http://authorangelita.tumblr.com/)
> 
> See end note for important information about a Major Character Death

The full moon shone brightly through the window while Stiles gathered the ingredients for his tea and set them on the kitchen table. Derek and the rest of the pack were out in the woods, doing werewolf things that probably involved hunting down somewhat defenseless animals and other things Stiles didn't want to think about too much. He had other things on his mind tonight.

He flipped through the grimoire that Deaton had given him when Stiles' spark manifested, and he'd turned into a full-fledged wizard. He'd asked for his invitation to Hogwarts, and Deaton had handed him the tome and a list of the occult shops within an hour radius. Real life was such a disappointment sometimes.

Their mantel clock – a purchase Derek had finally confessed reminded him of his old family home – chimed the midnight hour just as Stiles found the spell that he was looking for. He mixed the rosemary, clove, mugwort, wormwood, jasmine, and rose hips into the water he'd steeped and then added about half the jar of honey to try and mask the taste. 

He grimaced at the smell but closed his eyes and breathed in the scent while meditating on his future, on his life now that he'd graduated from BHCC, on where his relationship with Derek was going. When he opened his eyes, the tea had gone cold but he muttered, "Bottoms up," and drank it anyway.

Nothing happened for a moment. He took a deep breath, then another, and then another. As he exhaled, the energy zinged through him and his eyes rolled back in his head as the visions took over.

~~!!~~

_Stiles' hands were shaking as he stood just inside the kitchen door that led out onto their back patio. He was looking at his father, who was dressed in a suit and smiling at him with happy tears in his eyes._

_"Don't be nervous, Stiles," his dad said. "The ceremony is going to be great. I'm happy for you and Derek, and I know your mother would be too."_

_Stiles sniffed back his own tears of happiness as the scene shuddered and melted away._

~~!!~~

_Stiles was sitting at a desk in the Sheriff's office, drinking the same terrible coffee they'd had there his entire life, and typing up an incident report about a domestic violence call. He was wearing a deputy uniform complete with uncomfortably heavy utility belt and handgun._

_He looked up and scanned the office, seeing Parrish processing a juvenile delinquent that was handcuffed to his desk and glaring at him while other officers he recognized went about their duties. His dad was sitting behind his own desk in his office, going over paperwork and making a face while he ate carrot sticks._

_Stiles looked down at his own desk and found a small, open container of carrot sticks and celery stalks. He reached for one as the scene shuddered and dropped away._

~~!!~~

_The sun was bright, and Stiles held his hand up to shield his eyes as best he could. He was wearing a dark suit, but he was now standing in the Beacon Hills cemetery. He could hear the murmur of people behind him, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around and face them._

_A hand fell on his shoulder, and he glanced over to find Scott looking at him with such open concern that he couldn't stop the wave of despair that welled up and threatened to choke him._

_"You okay?" Scott's lack of the word 'dude' meant this was serious business. He also looked about twenty years older, which made Stiles gape for a moment._

_"I don't…" Stiles trailed off, looked away, and hunched in on himself. He was still facing away from the crowd and the funeral that was taking place behind him._

_Scott squeezed his shoulder firmly. "It's okay. No one would be upset if you left. I can drive you?"_

_Stiles didn't know what to say. His hands were starting to tremble and his face was going numb. A panic attack was building with each passing second. He flailed his hand out and caught Scott's shirt, gripping it tight as Scott got an arm around him and started to lead him away, toward the cars._

_As the scene started to shudder, Stiles looked back over his shoulder because he had to know whose funeral it was. When he saw his father's picture on an easel by the casket, he cried out, "No!"_

~~!!~~

Stiles came back to himself while still screaming, "NO!" He was alone in the house, and a quick glance at the nearest clock told him that it was just after two in the morning. The werewolves wouldn't be back until at least dawn.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, not at all surprised to find his cheeks wet with recently shed tears. Fighting the urge to call his father, he reminded himself that the future wasn't set in stone and that anything could happen. He'd drank the tea out of curiosity more than anything. Well, curiosity and the gnawing fear that his relationship with Derek was becoming stagnant. They'd been together for nearly five years, and Stiles thought it was time to take the next step but wasn't sure how to approach it with Derek. Now, he felt confident that they would be happy and married soon. 

Stiles' hands continued to shake as he cleaned up the table and put away the ingredients. Finally, he pulled his phone out and called the station since he wasn't able to remember if his dad was working the late shift. He was, and Dolores patched him through the Sheriff's desk phone. 

Hearing his dad's voice made him feel immensely better, and their brief conversation was enough to settle his nerves so that he could get some sleep. He let the images that he'd seen wash over him as he crawled into the bed he shared with Derek. The future wasn't written yet, but he liked some of the things he'd seen – his wedding, his work as a deputy. There was time to make sure that his dad would be okay too. He would do his best to change that part of the visions.

~End

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Major Character Death (in prophetic vision that may or may not come true)


End file.
